What does this have to do with the price of tea in China? (Don't ask, it's something my old pre-calculus teacher used to say...) Well, as some of you may know, November is National Novel Writing Month, affectionately referred to by its loving fans (aka yours truly) as NaNoWriMo.
And I, being the creativity nerd I am, have decided to do something a little different and try my hand at dystopia. WOOT! October, by the way, is National Novel Planning Month. (NaNoPlaMo? I don't actually know if they call it that...)
This was most likely caused by the fact that Anne, Emily, Agathe and I watched 'V for Vendetta' this past weekend for movie night. If you haven't seen it, then I will forgive you, as long as you go rent it ASAP. It's probably one of the best movie's I've ever seen, and yes, V has been added to my long list of fictional boyfriends. He's pretty friggin awesome.
Awesome quote: "There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth."
Anyway, as good as 'V for Vendetta' was, that's not the point of this post. The point of this post is that through my desire to write a dystopic novel for NaNoWriMo, I have put my poor characters through centuries of trauma.
Today I planned out the history of the fictional world my NaNoWriMo takes place in. First I created this kick-ass religion based partially around Hinduism, partially around Chinese philosophy, and partially around Socratic/Platonian justice. (Whoever said Dr. Austin never told us anything useful?) Then I stole some ideas from V for Vendetta (and I'd tell you specifically what they were, but it would spoil the story, and THAT would be a tragedy) and wiped out half of my population, installed an evil power-seeking dictator who uses my awesome religion to control people politically, and forced everyone who DID survive my catastrophe to live in constant fear that the dictator will suddenly develop a hatred for... say... people with freckles, and BOOM, within a week everyone who had freckles will be hanging by their necks from a crenellated wall.
-cackles maliciously- I feel SO POWERFUL!!!!!
Five hundred years after all this, my six main characters will have to head up the resistance that's taking this guy's descendants down. How are they going to do that, exactly? Um... give me a few days to work that out... Viva la revolucion!
(Where's V when you need him?)
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